


A Eulogy for Duncan

by Chaotic Neutralist (abriefcandle)



Category: Macbeth - Shakespeare
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Funeral, Gen, Grief, Loss, Mourning, POV First Person, Post-Act IV, Pre-Act V, eulogy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24247012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abriefcandle/pseuds/Chaotic%20Neutralist
Summary: Malcolm holds a funeral for his father, King Duncan, despite the absence of his brother Donalbain. Malcolm has made his mistakes, but now, it's time to put Duncan to rest.Set between Acts 4 and 5.Based on the prompt, "Write a eulogy for one character from the POV of another."





	A Eulogy for Duncan

Today, I come before you not as the present Prince of Cumberland and soon to be King, but rather as the child of a man far greater than I realized. How I ever took the life of my father, Duncan, for granted, I shall never know, nor shall I ever understand the foolishness that led me to believe that being a mere warrior was enough to achieve manhood. Through this corrupted lens, I could think of my father as no more than a decent man. One memory of this so-called manhood was from during the war against Norway, when he so firmly commanded Ross and Angus to see the former thane of Cawdor punished, and I thought, this is what is means to be a leader.

And like all mortal men, my father had his failings, or so I thought of them at the time. He was often too kind for his own good. In both Macdonwald and the former thane of Cawdor, he placed his absolute trust. Then, for the most honored host of His Majesty to turn on him with so little remorse...revenge, certainly it must be the only way to right these wrongs.

I could not understand his apparent blindness at the time. The complete inability to read a face...Surely a king must be more self-aware than that! Yet this kindness is what made him the best of men.

Even if one bathes daily in the glory of battle and is awashed in valor, he is no more than a boy if he does not have the emotional maturity to support his achievements. By this, I do not mean maintaining a false image of calm, as I did upon first hearing of my father's death. Rather, I refer to an honesty that I am still not fully capable of. Macduff, one of my dearest allies, demonstrated such openness to me upon hearing of his own losses, letting out a hearty sob. I couldn't comprehend it then. I had spent so much time suppressing this grief, for what?

For you. I cast aside these feelings so that I may concoct a remedy for the illness wracking our great nation in feverous convulsions. Let the pox marks heal over. There may be scars, but our lady Scotland shall live. No more shall our days turn into nights. No more shall we fear the serpent lying in wait behind pretty petals. Hereafter, we shall go to Dunsinane to defeat the treacherous Macbeth, to rip out his fangs and flay the scales from his accursed flesh! May he find no solace in the cold iron we lance this ugly blemish upon our nation with!

But, first and foremost, I must take the time to feel this loss as a man.


End file.
